


I Won't Sleep if You Won't Sleep

by Notasmuch



Series: Wee!chesters [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notasmuch/pseuds/Notasmuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Dean got sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Sleep if You Won't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Sam is 8, Dean is 12.

Sam crouched down by the couch and shook his brother's shoulder.

"Dean? Dean, wake up."

Dean mumbled something, took a breath and started coughing like his throat was ripping apart. Sam kneeled down and touched his forehead. He had no idea what it was supposed to feel like, but he knew people did that a lot when someone was sick.

"Dean," he tried again when the coughing stopped.

"Yeah?" Dean's voice was barely there.

"You're sick."

Dean opened one eye, but blinked a lot before he really looked at Sam. "No, I'm not." It sounded a little funny though because he had a piece of toilet paper stuck up his nose. There was also a bunch of already used paper on the floor.

Sam nodded and waited until Dean closed the eye before he got up and called Pastor Jim.

He started with "Dean is sick," instead of "Hello," but Pastor Jim didn't seem to mind.

"Sick how?"

"He's lying on the couch with the TV off, and he's coughing a lot and his nose is stuffed."

"Does he have a fever?"

"Um." Sam shrugged and looked at Dean. "Dean? Do you have a fever?"

Dean waved one hand, then let it fall back down, almost hitting his own face.

"We don't know."

"Okay Sammy, your dad left a box under Dean's bed. It has a thermometer and some pills. Take his temperature, he'll know what to do, then call me back."

Sam did what he was told and it turned out Dean did have a bit of fever, and even his "I'm just warm," couldn't chase it away.

Pastor thought it was a regular cold and their Dad would be back the next morning so it was nothing to worry about, Sam would just have to take care of Dean for a day.

Sam gulped and put the phone down when he got all the instructions. It wasn't that he never worried about Dean, just... Sam never got to take care of anyone before.

He put the milk on the stove and went to pull the blankets and the pillow from the bed. Dean opened his eyes to look at him occasionally, but mostly stopped complaining and claiming he was doing okay, which somehow worried Sam more.

He got Dean comfortable on the couch, made hot milk and sugar with some Tylenol on the side for Dean, and a real breakfast for himself. He got Dean to drink the milk and tried to make him smile when he pouted, then rubbed his back when he started coughing again.

When Dean was done with the milk, his face back in the pillow, Sam brought over three glasses of water, just in case, sat up by Dean's head and turned the cartoons on. Cartoons always made him feel better when he was sick.

And petting. His Dad's big hand on his head made him feel safer and helped him sleep when he was feeling bad.

Sam looked at his brother's ridiculous hair and bit his lip. Dean didn't like it if Sam tried to make him better when Dad yelled at him or something happened at school, but this was different. This time, maybe he wouldn't mind.

Sam wanted to lay his hand gently on Dean's hair, ease him into it, but ended up thumping his head instead. Dean grunted into the pillow but didn't shrug him away, so Sam moved his hand experimentally.

Dean shifted a bit, but he only seemed to fit into Sam's touch better. Sam grinned happily and turned back to watch TV while he scritched Dean's head. His brother calmed down then, drooling into the pillow because he couldn't breathe if he closed his mouth, and warm enough that the coughing didn't happen too often. Sam made sure to stay by his side, petting, just in case Dean woke up if he stopped.

At some point during the day Dean woke up feeling a bit better, watched "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" with Sam and laughed along, when he wasn't busy coughing and building a _used toilet paper mountain_ on the floor. Sam even made him a real sandwich in the afternoon and his heart swelled with pride when Dean took the first bite and smiled gratefully, even if Dean's mouth was still full and Sam had to roll eyes at him.

They were back to watching cartoons when Sam asked if Dean wanted another sandwich and got just a grunt in reply. He looked down to see Dean rubbing his face into the pillow and coughing silently.

Sam jumped up and pulled the blankets over Dean again, ignoring his mumbled "I'm just sleepy, stop running around," and went to make more milk and find the pills that had fallen under the couch during the day.

He had hold of the whole "taking care" thing by then, so he got organized in minutes. Milk, pills, toilet paper, water, blankets, chips, Coke. He found an old black and white horror movie Dean would like if he woke up, and settled on the couch near the pillow, one hand in a bag of chips, the other in Dean's hair.

Sam woke up in the dark, with Dad's hand on his shoulder and his head on Dean's. Dad picked him up and carried him over to the bed.

"Dean's sick," he mumbled into the cold jacket. "I took care of him."

Dad put him down on the bed and ruffled his hair. "You did good, Sammy."

Sam smiled. He took care of Dean. Dean would be okay because of him. _Hah!_

He watched as Dad put Dean, coughing again, in his own bed, and waited for Dad to go to sleep too.  
Then he got up and slid in behind Dean, hand in his brother's hair again.  
His work was far from done.


End file.
